Randy apologizes

"Wait Lady Marlton." Randy's words sounded more like a command than a request, but she hesitated for just a moment giving him a second chance. "Please, accept my apology. I behaved badly," he began and then did his best to explain "but in my defense, not entirely without cause." The last phrase stopped Charlotte in her tracks and she turned on Randy raising her voice sharply.

"And what possible cause could you have had?" She was radiant when she was angry. Her cheeks were flushed pink with color and her eyes flashed with emotion as she glared at him.

"Why your beauty, Lady Marlton." Randy decided that truth was his best hope. "It is a rogue's excuse, I confess, but you are a beautiful woman and I was lost in your delightful response."

"Do you mock me sir?" Charlotte wasn't sure how to respond to his bold flattery. Since the **** of her mother no-one had called her beautiful. At thirteen she had been far taller than any of the girls her age - most of the boys too for that matter - and clumsy too. Her long jangly limbs moved so awkwardly in dance lessons that Madam DeRantraux despaired before every one of the seasonal recitals.

"Elle se déplace comme un poulain vieux jour, et si grande qu'elle ne peut pas être caché, même pas dans la ligne très en arrière." The French émigré had complained to one of the other girl's mother when she had mistakenly thought Charlotte was safely out of hearing. Madam's comparing her awkward ballet to a newborn colt was painful, but it was her biting comment about Charlotte's height that hurt the most.

Her aunts were no better; regularly marveling aloud to any and all visitors how a renown beauty like Lady Marlton could have possibly had a daughter as plain as Charlotte. Finally, one of these guests rather pointedly remarked that perhaps the problem lay with their side of the family, after all John Marlton was the girl's sire. After that exchange the aunts' snide little comment was finally put aside.

As a shy teenager Charlotte had studied her reflection daily hoping for a sudden blossoming of womanly curves. However, she had long ago given up; she would never have the tiny waist, swollen bosom and alabaster skin of London's most sought after doll-like debutantes.

Perhaps not a dainty blossom, however unnoticed by either Charlotte or her friends and family she had grown into an exotic beauty. Her long limbs, once spindly with bony joints that reminded observers of marionettes in puppet shows, had filled in with smooth curves. Likewise, her thin neck now carried her head gracefully with the sleek elegance of a swan. Constant riding and swimming had flattened her belly and toned her ass, and her breasts - although not as big as she'd once hoped for - at least now filled in the bodices of her dresses.

Some men might have been put off by the unfashionable freckles and golden tan of her sun-kissed face, but Randy had spent years at sea in the tropics, and he found the pale white faces of England's finest ladies morbidly disturbing. There was no doubt about it, in Randy's mind at least, Miss Marlton was one of the most attractive woman in all of England.

Charlotte Marlton may not have had the clearest understanding of just how attractive Randy found her. However, four seasons of being courted by a wide variety of suitors had given Charlotte unmatched experience in detecting false flattery. She could see the desire in his eyes, a hunger that she should have found alarming especially after the passionate embrace that the two had just shared.

It was impossible to remain angry at the man Charlotte acknowledged with a tiny shrug. A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun which once again shown through the clouds filled her body. He found her beautiful.

"Apology accepted ...er ..." She paused "I'm sorry I still don't know your name."